


Knight in Tulle Armour

by lokischocolatefountain



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Asgard, BAMF Women, Bullying, Engaged Loki, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki Is A Good Husband, Loki fluff, Mean Asgardians, Prince Loki (Marvel), Protective Loki (Marvel), reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokischocolatefountain/pseuds/lokischocolatefountain
Summary: Loki’s fiancé doesn’t need to be rescued from bullying palace staff by a Knight in Shining Armour.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Knight in Tulle Armour

Astrid gasped and clutched her stomach as the seamstress yanked her back by the ribbons on her dress. “Can’t breathe,” she managed to choke out as the corset grew tighter and tighter. The woman finally let go and she fell forward but then clutched the mirror to steady herself. 

“Was that really necessary, Synnøve?” 

“My apologies, Lady Astrid. I often forget how fragile mortals could be.” 

There it was. It had been two hours since she was dragged into this room to try on wedding gowns and she was surprised that nothing had happened yet. She had been putting up with remarks like this for a whole month on Asgard. Loki knew nothing. When the two were seen together, the Æsir kept their remarks subtle. Loki wasn’t one to stir up conflict that would jeopardise political allies, so he dealt with them with similar subtle remarks and it had been fun to watch him tactfully bring down people’s sense of self-worth in a quintessentially Loki style. 

Attacks toward her when she was alone was a different case entirely. People talked shit blatantly, criticised her appearance, flaunted past trysts with her fiancé to her face, humiliated her, the lest went on and on. Apparently yanking her around by the ribbons of her corseted bodice was the hot new thing on the list. 

She was still in the initial stages of picking a dress, checking which silhouette she preferred. It was supposed to be an easy process until she discovered it wasn’t. There were load and load of options and different types of cuts and sleeves and silhouettes and colours. It wasn’t often that she wore any dress, let alone bridal ones. Her career didn’t allow her the freedom to wear anything other than ill-fitted scrubs and on occasion, well-fitted suits. Her motorcycle was her primary mode of transport and long flowy dresses were a safety hazard while short ones were a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen. So, she had many things to blame for her lack of dress knowledge. But, that made the Asgardians here look down on her like she was some kind of peasant who had never seen a dress before. 

“Lady Astrid, Prince Loki requested your presence when you are finished here.” 

“Im finished,” she said hurriedly as she lifted up the layers and layers of tulle of her dress, jumped off her platform in her kitten heels and leaped out the door with the woman who called for her. Her facial expression contorted to suggest she was looking at an adorable puppy rather than a grown ass woman. 

“I remember being your age, newly in love and waiting for an opportunity to run off to meet my beloved.” 

Astrid just smiled and nodded, not having the heart to tell her that she was only rushing to be away from her banshee of a seamstress rather than to the arms of her lover. She was also surrounded by plenty of strangers the whole day and would kill to see a familiar face. She was escorted to Loki’s wing of the palace and left at the doorsteps. She quickly thanked her and stepped in. Loki was seated comfortable on his sofa, flipping through the pages of a humongous tome when you entered. He looked up from his book, surprised. 

“Get me out of this!” 

“Woah, woah! Breathe, darling,” he said in his silky smooth voice as straightened himself on the sofa. 

“I can’t breathe if you don’t get me out of this!” 

With just a flick of his finger, from a distance, the ribbons loosened and air finally entered her lungs. She plopped down ungraciously next to him and her dress took up most of the space on a sofa that would comfortably seat four Asgardians. She laid down with her feet on one side of the sofa and her head on Loki’s lap and kicked off her heels to the ground. 

“Nice dress,” he said, looking serious for only a fraction of a second before breaking into laughter. 

“Shut up, dick!” 

“No, I do not jest. You will make a wonderful cake at the ceremony.” 

She threw a cushion at his face, but the man continued laughing at your expense. Each time he simmered down and she thought he was going to stop, he began laughing louder.

“I’ve had a horrible day and I would appreciate if you stopped laughing at me and the ugly dress. If not, I will kill you in your sleep.”

“I presume it was unsuccessful…” 

“Could you remove this synthetic cloud smothering me to death?” she asked, lifting up some of the layers and letting it cascade back down. It took him very little time to vanish what she was wearing and replace it with cotton shorts and a t-shirt from her side of the wardrobe. 

“Thanks,” she sighed, relaxing for the first time that day. 

“Do you have anything to do, today?” 

“Yes, loads. Prince, remember?” 

“Ah, yes. People constantly remind me of that,” she said, dejected that she may not be able to spend too much time with him.

Her traced his index finger along her jawline as he looked at her in a way that drove her insane even after years of being together. “I always have time for you, my dear. Give me your word and I will cancel all my plans for you.” 

“No, you shouldn’t. You have Princely responsibilities and I don’t want to impede that.” If people knew that their Prince skived off responsibilities to play hooky with his ‘mortal pet’ as some called her, she would only face more shit on a day to day basis. 

“What is it? Tell me.” All the playfulness had vanished and he looked quite serious, so she decided to be out with it instead of mincing her words. 

“Could you possibly drop me off on Earth?” 

“Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, I just- I think I like Earth dresses better…” 

“Is the fine hand-spun silk of Asgard not good for my lady?” 

“I think I will be more comfortable in Earth dresses.”

“I would take you to Midgard right now, but there are better solutions than traveling lightyears away to buy a dress. You could give all your requirements to to the seamstresses and they will make you a dress.”

“We don’t really work well together.” 

“That should not be a problem since you do not work together, she is supposed to work for you. Something unpleasant must have happened for you to react this way.” Shit. There was no way she could keep it from him now. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I shall find out on my own,” he said as he gently moved her head off his lap and set in on a cushion. Before he could leave, she caught him by his wrist. She was in no way strong enough to stop a God, but he respected her enough to stay. 

“No! Please don’t, Loki. They already infantilize me enough. If you go there, inquiring about who pushed me in the playground, they will only continue treating me like a child. So, don’t intervene.” 

He turned to her sharply and pried her hand off his wrist. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes showed hints of confusion and anger. “They have been infantilising you? Today was only your first appointment with the seamstresses… So, it is not just them, is it?” 

She stood up to be on level with Loki. “Everyone, Loki. Someone called me your Midgardian pet. My first night here, an old lady mocked my tiny portion size at dinner. Just yesterday, the woman who dressed tried to give me advice and how you liked it- in bed- and she tried to get me to use some hair product she claimed drove you mad. The seamstress today- Synnøve, yanked me by the dress and basically went ‘Oopsie, I keep forgetting you’re so fragile and breakable’- I need a break from being an alien. Just, please take me home for a while.” 

“Astrid, why is this the first time I am hearing of this?” She had not expected the conversation to take such a serious turn. But, she didn't know what she expected in the first place. 

“I didn’t want to complain to you like a child!” 

He gripped her arms in her effort to bring her closer to him. She let him and even allowed herself to settle into his comforting embrace as he spoke to her, his harsh tone being replaced by a gentle one. “You may have different expectations from your subordinates back on Midgard, but here on Asgard, you are a Prince’s Consort and will be treated as such. If you do not set them straight now and demand the respect you are entitled to with your title, you will forever be humiliated in your own home. Is that what you want?” 

She separated herself from the comfort of listening to his heart beat and looked up at him. “I understand all that. I just don’t want to stir up anything. I don’t want to get a bad reputation so early on- that I’m rude or difficult or bossy.” 

“You mentioned that on Earth, there is a double standard in the judgement of women’s behaviour when compared to men. You are at a similar disadvantage here. They will speak horribly of you no matter what. You will be criticised for every breath you take, every move you make. You learn have to ignore them and when necessary, exert your authority over them.” 

She shook her head in disagreement. “I’m not married to you yet, I have no authority.” 

“Do you believe everything will fall apart before the ceremony and we may not be married?” 

She didn't have to answer him. 

“I will ask my Chief of Staff to bring you a list of the best designers in all of the nine realms. You could interview them tomorrow and choose a team of your favourite ones.” 

“That’s…” 

“Wonderful.” 

“-too much.” 

“I disagree. I think it is the appropriate thing to do.” 

“Thank you,” she said as she let go of him. 

“Now, I will ask for the portfolios to be brought for you to pick the best of the best.” 

“You do that, I have something to do.” 

Loki magicked the ugly dress back onto her as it was hardly appropriate for her to walk out in booty shorts and she left determinedly to face the woman she had run away from. 

The woman looked at her mockingly as she entered the fitting room, carrying her high heels rather than walking in them. She eyed the crumpled state of her dress and Astrid was sure that she believed she had just had sex in it. She climbed up the platform and stood in front of the mirror. 

“The Prince does like to have his pets at his beck and call,” she said in a saccharine, sing-song voice as she stood approached the dais to continue working. Her long spindly fingers began loosening the ribbons of the corseted dress.

“Does he, Synnøve? Thank you very much for informing me. You see, I am new here and not acquainted with the norms of the palace or the people here. However, I am certain that insinuating crudely about the Prince and his Consort is punishable.” 

Astrid could tell that she was taken aback by her as she noticed that a flash of panic crossed her eyes right before her hands stopped abruptly. As though unaffected by it, she continued unlacing the dress. They spent what felt like hours in an awkward silence as she freed Astrid from her tulle prison. She was glad that Loki magic these dresses off of her in seconds or she would spend years unlacing them manually. Even if he couldn’t use magic for the purpose, she was sure that the man would rip them off to get to her quickly. 

“Which dress would you like to try on next, Lady Astrid?” All hints of superiority and mockery had fled the woman. She looked constipated like the act of being civil to a Midgardian was physically painful. 

“That wouldn’t be necessary. I would like my dress back.” 

“So, this is the silhouette you would like,” she asked, confused by the lack of clarity in her words. 

“No, it’s quite hideous. I’d just like my dress back so that I can leave.” 

“Shall we continue tomorrow?” 

“No, the Prince believed it was only appropriate for me to choose a worthy designer rather than be assigned to a random seamstress.” 

“Oh.” All light had left her eyes now and Astrid swore that she saw the woman gulp. There were no protests from her and she was just relieved to be rid of the seamstress. 

As she stood in front of the mirror, being laced into the dress she wore to the fitting at the beginning of the day, she felt a little more confident in her ability to deal with people here. She may never fit in, never be seen as a fit bride for their Prince, but she wasn’t going to allow them to bully her into submission.


End file.
